Sleigh Bells for Dry Creek

Shawn had never been a particular friend of his, but Wade was almost glad to see him that night. No one answered Shawn, but Amy slipped back inside the church and, the next time Wade saw her, her face had turned pink and she’d avoided his eyes. Of course, that had been after everything had happened, and he’d never been sure if it had been the murder or the kiss that had put her off him.

Wade kept looking at the bumper on the pickup. It must be Shawn’s father who was running for the state legislature. Not that it mattered. Wade reached for the key hanging from the ignition. He was right the first time. If Amy was still around here, she had to be married to some rich rancher by now. Her Aunt Tilly always said Amy was destined for greatness, and Wade believed it. If he had any sense, he would start his pickup and drive until he and his mother were safely away from here. Amy could be married and doing great without them having to know about it.

“Well, I’m not going home without getting those eggs,” his mother declared as she pressed down on the handle of her door. “Not when Amy might be inside.”

“Wait,” Wade breathed out in protest. He started to say more, but his mother was already out of the pickup and on her way to the café. A blast of cold air came in through the open door. He had no choice but to go around and close the thing. Once he was outside, he was drawn to the light inside the windows of the café, as surely as any man was ever drawn to a disaster of his own making. He needed to know what was going to happen, even if there was nothing he could do about it.

Amy Mitchell stopped chewing her gum and cleared her throat for a moment. It was still more dark than light outside, but the café opened early, and she wanted to get this over with. She stood rigid inside the main room, ignoring the nervous tickle that went up and down her spine. The door had opened behind her. Someone was standing there, but she wasn’t going to turn around. She didn’t care who saw her. People were going to find out sooner or later, anyway, that she was making some serious changes in her life.

“Care for a cup?” Linda Enger, the café owner, squinted as she walked over with her pot of coffee. She had a yellow kerchief tied around her curly, auburn hair and a white chef’s apron covering her jeans and T-shirt. Red toenails peeked out of leather sandals and a big, diamond ring circled her wedding finger.

“No, no thank you.” A light had burned out overhead, and it was darker in this part of the café than elsewhere. Amy wasn’t sure the other woman saw her well enough to recognize her, since dawn was barely starting to light up the sky.

Linda walked closer and finally cocked her head sideways a little. “Amy?”

She nodded. “I’ve come to see if you have a job.”

“Oh.” Linda blinked and then paused. “I haven’t seen you in town for a long time. Is everything all right?”

Amy realized in a sudden burst of panic that she still had her gum in her mouth.

“Sorry,” she said as she reached up and removed the gum. She always chewed a new stick of spearmint gum when she went out to do the chores. It helped with the smells in the barn. But she usually took it out as soon as she went back in the house. This morning she had been so upset, she’d forgotten.

“No problem,” Linda said. “So it’s a job, is it?”

Amy had an empty wrapper in her pocket, and she quietly folded it around the used gum while she nodded and tried to look competent for the other woman. “I am available for any shift you might need. I could do the cleaning, too. I’m good with a mop.”

Amy stuffed the wrapped gum into her jacket pocket and rubbed her hands against the denim jeans she was wearing. She hadn’t had a paying job before. Shoveling out the barn didn’t count. She quickly glanced around. Two local ranch hands were at a far back table arguing about something, probably the price of wheat, but they were paying no attention to the front of the café.

“You have such a beautiful floor,” Amy said, just to keep the conversation going. The black-and-white squares and vinyl-covered ruby chairs were part of a fifties look. “And I don’t mind hard work.”

“But what about your aunt?” Linda stepped over to the closest table and set the coffeepot down. “Doesn’t she still need someone with her? I know her MS has been difficult on all of you.”

Amy shifted her feet. “The doctor says she’s well enough to be on her own more than she is.” He’d been saying that for the last year, actually. It wasn’t until twenty minutes ago that Amy had realized she was using her aunt’s health as an excuse not to live her own life.

“That’s good news,” Linda said. “You’re sure?”

“That’s what he says. Sometimes the MS goes into remission for months—even years—and she’s doing fine now. But I thought maybe—if I need to sometimes—I could take a break when business is slow and drive back to check on her. That is, if you have something for me.”

Amy knew she shouldn’t make any decisions about applying for a job when she was still angry. But she felt she had to do something right now to show she wasn’t as pathetic as some people obviously thought. By people, she meant Shawn Garrett.

She had thought Shawn was her friend. But then she had also thought he had been joking when he had proposed she marry him to help him get more votes in his campaign for the state legislature. Shawn had always been a kidder, so she’d laughed and figured it was just his sense of humor—until this morning.

There had been no mistaking the bitter triumph in his voice as she’d stood in the hallway outside her aunt’s kitchen and overheard him brag that Amy would gladly marry him once she read the article about Wade Stone being washed up after his latest injury on the rodeo circuit. Shawn must have paused to take a breath, because she’d then heard the rustle of a newspaper like he was pointing something out to her aunt. Then he’d muttered that it had been a year since the accident and so Wade was never coming back—which meant Amy was wasting her time waiting for him.

Amy’s blood pressure rose when she heard her aunt murmur in quiet agreement.

“Is something wrong?” Linda asked as she searched Amy’s face.

“No, I’m doing fine.” She forced her mind back to the café and looked at the other woman. “I was just thinking.”

Amy’s eyes narrowed all of a sudden. She wondered who else Shawn had been talking to about her feelings for Wade. She could bear many things, but she couldn’t stand to have her neighbors gossip about her like she was some old spinster who pined away for a man who was beyond her reach—even though Shawn was right on one point. Wade had clearly forgotten anyone in Dry Creek existed, and that included her. She’d never received even a postcard from him in the nine years he’d been gone.

“You always seem like things are good,” Linda agreed, looking more relaxed. “I know it’s been hard with your aunt, but—”

“She’s not the problem.” Amy tried to be fair. Her aunt had given up a career on Broadway to raise her after her parents had been killed in a car accident. “I want to do what I can for her. And my grandfather is around. He’s not always—well, his mind drifts and he’s not always quite there, but he’d be able to call for help if something was really wrong.”

When she ran out of words, Amy just stood there.

Linda was silent as she studied her.

Please, God. Amy bit her lip as she prayed. I need some help.

“Well, I think we have a deal,” the café owner finally said decisively. “My sister helps me until the middle of January, but she’ll be going back to college then. So come back in a month or so. We could start you then.”

“Oh.” Amy swallowed.

Everything was quiet for a moment.

“That’s not soon enough for you, is it?” Linda’s smile faded. “I’m sorry. I just can’t afford more help before then—it might be as late as February before I can start you. Things really pick up around here for Valentine’s Day. But if I can swing it earlier, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, let me fix you some breakfast. On the house. Free food is one of the perks of the job. That’ll make you feel better.”

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” Amy had to get back soon, or her aunt would worry about her. She just hoped Shawn was gone by then. She hadn’t said anything to either of them. They could still be at the table, drinking tea and talking about her.

“Well, I’ll be in touch then,” Linda said as she turned to pick up the coffeepot from the table, where she had set it earlier. With that, the café owner started walking toward the men in the back, probably to refill their cups.

A soft footstep sounded behind Amy, but she didn’t turn around. She knew she wore her disappointment on her face, and she had her pride. Life had been difficult for her—that was nothing new—but she was starting to feel helpless, and she didn’t like that.

She had stayed home to care for her aunt, but she wanted to travel and see new places, too. Eventually, she hoped to have a husband and children. She wanted to raise her family in Dry Creek, but surely, Shawn wasn’t her only choice.

Amy knew she should be turning to God for solace, but lately she found herself being angry with Him. Her resentment had been building for some time. God might be the Maker of heaven and earth, but He never seemed to care about her. She must be too small for Him to notice. First He’d taken her parents, and she’d gotten past that. Then He’d let the man she loved move away, and she was trying to cope. Now, it felt like He didn’t care about her future at all.

Still, as angry as she was, she didn’t want to broadcast her discontent. She didn’t need anyone to see how discouraged she was and start a rumor that something was wrong with her. Shawn would be sure to throw in his two cents if he heard about it. Pride was all she had left, and she couldn’t bear to look pathetic to people who’d known her since she was a child. So, it wouldn’t hurt to stand still for a minute, until her face settled back into more peaceful lines.

“I’ve got a job for you.” A woman’s husky voice whispered behind her.

Amy almost recognized the voice, but she had to be wrong. She’d had this happen before in places far more public than the café. She’d hear one of the Stone family members, or so she’d think, and she’d be excited until she turned to face the person. Instead, it would be some stranger, and her heart would plummet. Usually, it was Wade who tripped her up, but his mother weighed on her heart, too.

She prepared herself for disappointment, but she turned around anyway, and there, in the open doorway, stood the one woman she wanted to see more than any other in the world—Gracie Stone.

“Oh, my,” Amy whispered in surprise. The years rolled away, and she remembered how as a girl she’d run across the fields to the Stone house and Gracie would be waiting with a hug and a warm cookie for her. Gracie had been as much a mother to her as her aunt had ever been—maybe more.

Amy smiled. “I didn’t know you were back.”

Another shadow fell across the doorway, but Amy didn’t have time for anyone else. Not when God was finally blessing her today by bringing back Gracie. She scarcely knew what to say, so she stood there grinning for a moment. “Are you staying at your ranch? I know it needs a lot of work, but—please say you’re staying.”

As much as she wanted to avoid any mention of Wade, she wanted to be near Gracie. God had known what she needed, after all.

“That’s why I want to hire you,” the other woman said, putting out her words one at a time as though she wasn’t used to speaking. “I got here a couple of days ago and the house needs work. Mostly cleaning out the old cupboards. Washing things down. Maybe painting some walls.”